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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221789">Go Baby Go</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_L0N/pseuds/Babylon'>Babylon (Baby_L0N)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Paved With Good Intentions [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blasphemy, Explicit Language, Gen, Gender-Neutral Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lingerie, MC is Canonically Reckless and Horny and Recklessly Horny, Original Non-Binary Character - Freeform, Original Trans Character - Freeform, Porn Watching, Retconned Lore, Sadomasochism, Self-deprecating humor, Sex Toys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_L0N/pseuds/Babylon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Paymon was out to paint the Devildom red with Asmo one night when they happened upon an adult store and, well, self-control was never their strong suit.</p>
<p>AKA How Paymon got their hands on the Whip of Love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Paved With Good Intentions [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Go Baby Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is part of Paved With Good Intentions series but can be read as a standalone since it has few references to previous parts.</p>
<p>I’m really pleased with how this came out. I hope you enjoy it as well!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You're such a delicate boy</p>
<p>In the hysterical realm</p>
<p>Of an emotional landslide</p>
<p>In physical terms</p>
<p>--- Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go) by Garbage</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Paymon, for all their protests after their kidnapping and trip to hell, did not miss a lot from their life in the Mortal Realm. But one of the things they missed most was wheels. Car, scooter, bike… They would’ve taken anything.</p>
<p>Luci turned his nose up at the idea. (<em>Too dangerous.) </em>More like too freeing. It’d be harder to keep an eye on them at all times if they had a means of escape.</p>
<p>So when they had a bad day (thanks, Luci) and Asmo walked through the door like a coked-up fairy godmother with a pair of worn roller skates, retro 70s gym shorts, and a quart of body glitter, of course they jumped on the opportunity. And him.</p>
<p>“Do you think Lucifer has noticed we’re gone?” Asmo asked naively as they skated through the shopping district, which was surprisingly crowded given how late it was. Who knows, though? Maybe mortal’s version of late was demon’s early. Paymon’s midnight was their late afternoon, after all.</p>
<p>Even with the two realms sharing a twenty-four-hour day cycle, it was hard to keep track of time without a fucking sun.</p>
<p>That was the second thing they missed most about the human world. Their anxiety and depression skyrocketed in the months without sunlight. Nothing a magic sun lamp couldn’t fix. Or, at least, mitigate.</p>
<p>“You better hope not, or I’ll be put under permanent house arrest and you’ll be strung up by your ankles,” Paymon snorted in reply.</p>
<p>Asmo just laughed, eyes gleaming like Grimm under the streetlights. He was barely looking at them, though, too fixated on his D.D.D.</p>
<p>“Laugh all you want. You won’t be laughing when it happens. Better hope one of your other brothers is sympathetic enough to cut you down before the blood rushes to your pretty head and makes your complexion all splotchy,” they said, a bit meaner, more mocking.</p>
<p>The laughter cut off with a scandalized gasp. The best way to get Asmo to fall in line was to go for the face. Maybe that would stop him from live Devilgramming their whole night out.</p>
<p>The constant stream of selfies wasn’t bad. It was even welcome. (Paymon Favorited every picture on Asmo’s account, new and old. He awarded them with a kiss for every little star.) But all hell would break lose if a picture of Paymon like this got out before they were safe and sound at home in bed.</p>
<p>Luci allowed, even expected, such behavior from his beautiful bouncing baby brother. But if Paymon left the House of Lamentation showing their shoulders, then they were “disappointing Lord Diavolo.”</p>
<p>RAD apparently had a uniform policy similar to their old Baptist high school. Cutting the sleeves off their shirts was a big no-no, no matter the sweltering heat of literal hell.</p>
<p>(Solomon doesn’t have to wear a uniform all the time! <em>You are not Solomon. You are Paymon. And Lord Diavolo was so excited to see one of the exchange students take to the RAD uniform. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you.</em>)</p>
<p>Paymon hated that. When he asked a question without really asking.</p>
<p>There was a good reason why Luci didn’t let them go out at night, though. Not that they would ever admit it. Paymon would sooner chew off their tongue than confess Luci was right about something.</p>
<p>Every demon they whizzed past had the same lean, hungry look. It made them nostalgic in the negative sense, for when they were a preteen walking down the worn streets of Rome, Georgia.</p>
<p>Hollywood got so little right. Youth wasn’t that pretty. Every teen they ever met looked like a weird second stage evolution Pokemon. Media needed to stop casting brooding, hot 25-year-olds as teenagers and slapping six layers of make-up on kids.</p>
<p>It didn’t matter that they were a child in every sense of the word… Not the Peter-Pan eternal state of adolescence that their father’s religion kept them in, either. They could still count their age on their hands when men on the sidewalk started looking at them like they were something to be <em>consumed</em>.</p>
<p>It didn’t matter that they were a stupid, ugly little kid. All that mattered was that they had twin bug bites on their chest and a bloody cunt.</p>
<p>It was less gross now that they were old enough to wield their sexuality as a sword. They were no longer a victim but a duelist, trading blows. (<em>God, what I’d like to do to you, baby…</em> Really? ‘Cause I’d like to fuck you until you cry.)</p>
<p>It was never a fair fight, though, when they were up against demons.</p>
<p>They moved down the boulevard like models fresh off the photoshoot. Eerily beautiful, too pretty to touch… Like the antique dolls Paymon’s father would buy for them and then lock away in display cases, never actually let them play with.</p>
<p>It didn’t help that they were candy-colored, like poison dart frogs, and just as deadly… And each and every one of them knew exactly how attractive they were, with their glowing ombre eyes and brilliantly white smiles… All the better to chew up and spit out ugly little mortals like them.</p>
<p>Paymon would kill for a good, hard fuck right about now. But they weren’t ready to die for one. Not yet, anyway.</p>
<p><em>Paradise</em>, one of the storefronts up ahead displayed in bright, flashing neon lights. A funny thing to advertise in hell.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” They inquired, pointing. One of the demons they passed snickered at their question. Asshole.</p>
<p>“What do you think it is?” Asmo teased, “Don’t you humans have something similar? Adam and Eve, maybe?”</p>
<p>It took longer than they would like to admit for that little clue to click in their head. Sex shops <em>did</em> love to get their names from the Genesis creation narrative.</p>
<p>“Were Adam and Eve really real?” They asked absently, eyes still locked on that neon sign, noting how it lacked the opulence the rest of the storefronts possessed.</p>
<p>“What?” Admittedly, they could have phrased that better.</p>
<p>“The quote-unquote, first humans. Adam and Eve. Did they actually exist?”</p>
<p>“Oh, they existed alright. Daddy took some creative liberties with their story, though.”</p>
<p>It was always Daddy with Asmo. Not Father or God or Our Lord. He was out-of-place among his brothers, who only alluded to Him, as if they had forgotten His name but didn’t want to be obvious about it.</p>
<p>“For instances,” he continued, “they ate the fruit of knowledge of their own free will. None of us had any hand in it. The temptation was there from the moment He made hungry humans and a tree they shouldn’t eat from.”</p>
<p>Huh. Their father was right about free will, then. It was God’s way or the highway.</p>
<p>Asmo probably thought his teasing would shut down their line of questioning, but Paymon had less shame than the average human. Really, it just made them all more curious. An adult store in hell? Now this they had to see!</p>
<p>So, as they got closer to Paradise… They turned, skates scraping, and rode right through the shop’s sliding glass doors, ignoring Asmo calls after them.</p>
<p>Paymon had never been in an adult store before. The internet provided far more discreet methods of buying toys. Still, they didn’t think any mortal sex shop could measure up to this.</p>
<p>Demons must take pleasure very, very seriously. Which made sense. They were hedons.</p>
<p>There were entire aisles were dedicated to anything you could possibly fantasize about: ball gags, corsets, dildos… All boasting an unbelievably wide selection. Their eye didn’t know what to settle on… Until they spotted the porn exhibit, where they stopped so suddenly that they almost fell over.</p>
<p>It was essentially PornHub’s homepage made physical. At least two dozen films played all at once on an array of stacked televisions… There was chaos on every screen. The smorgasbord of flesh both dazzled and sickened. Things they had only ever seen in hentai or heard about on kink forums were being played out by beings of all shapes and forms.</p>
<p>They reached out to touch one of the figures, a demon hung like a bull with a matching pair of curled horns outfitted with gold rings and hanging chains. The screen gave them a static shock the instant they made contact. It felt strangely like a slap on the wrist. <em>Look but don’t touch.</em></p>
<p>“<em>Please,</em> <em>master,</em>” moaned the bull-demon’s companion, tugging on his rope bindings a little to better present his ass for fucking. Just like a good little pet.</p>
<p>Uh oh. This better not awaken anything in them. They’d already seen Satan and Mammon in catboy-form, and now they were a furry.</p>
<p>“What in Devildom are you watching?” Asmo balked once he finally caught up to them. He used them to bring himself to a full stop, draping himself over their back, making them bend over to support his weight. “Don’t tell me you’re actually enjoying this trash!”</p>
<p>It was only then they realized they were practically panting and desperately needed to readjust their shorts to make more room for their most sensitive bits.</p>
<p>“Oh, c’mon! You’re the avatar of lust, and you never watch porn?” They scoffed incredulously. Any blood that wasn’t busy between their legs rushed to their face and oversized ears, coloring them carmine.</p>
<p>“Most pornos you see nowadays are uninspiring, low-budget rush jobs,” Asmo drawled. “I have precious few videos in my private collection I find decent. I’ll have to share them with you some time.”</p>
<p>His hands wrapped around their waist, grasping at that sacred strip of bare skin between their crop top and high-waisted shorts. His flesh was refreshingly cool in comparison to their own. They were burning hot with shame and arousal.</p>
<p>Their father used to hold full sermons on shame. How it was a good thing. It let them know when they were doing something wrong. After all, shame was born when Adam and Eve first sinned, when they ate of the fruit of knowledge. <em>Then the eyes of both of them were opened and they realized that they were naked</em>, and all that biblical nonsense.</p>
<p>“Be careful what you consume, Paymon,” Asmo whispered directly into their ear, even taking a moment to nibble on the outer shell, “The phrase ‘you are what you eat’ applies to more than just food.”</p>
<p>Paymon watched with growing interest as the bull-demon brought down a whip on the back of his companion, over and over again, until milk-white skin turned cherry-red.</p>
<p>They carefully turned in Asmo’s arms, tip-toing around on their rubber stoppers. Face-to-face at last, they leisurely wrapped their arms around his neck. They just stood like that for a while, looking back and forth between his eyes and his lips, practically telegraphing their intentions before they leaned in for a kiss.</p>
<p>The two of them kissed languidly, with soft brushes of lips and barely-there hints of tongue. He was better at this than them, something that should have been obvious given his status. They liked to think, what they lacked in expertise, they made up for with enthusiasm.</p>
<p>“You’re <em>so</em> cute!” Asmo squealed as they pulled away panting, gasping for air.</p>
<p><em>Cute.</em> That was Asmo’s go-to description of them. That or <em>adorable</em>. For once, they wanted to be <em>handsome, sexy, gorgeous</em>… Even <em>cute</em> was pushing it, though. This was coming from a man who fucked Helene of Troy, the face that launched a thousand ships. Paymon’s face couldn’t launch <em>one</em> on a good day.</p>
<p>“Oooh baby, why the pout? Am I not enough for you?” He cooed, reaching up to cradle their jaw in both hands.</p>
<p>“You don’t want me.” They said, unable to deny that they were, indeed, pouting. With good reason, though. “Not the way I want you.”</p>
<p>“Of course, I want you! You are so adorable. I just want to eat you up!” But he drew away from them before continuing, “I just don’t want Lucifer to cut off my hands for touching his glass monarch.”</p>
<p>Glass monarch? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?</p>
<p>“He doesn’t have to know.” It wasn’t any of his business anyway.</p>
<p>“Trust me, darling… The moment I have you, <em>everyone</em> will know.”</p>
<p>“Promises, promises, Asmodeus…” They pushed off of him and glided down the aisle. Their roller skates rumbled along the tiled floor, Asmo hot on their heels.</p>
<p>The cashier gave them a disgruntled look over his magazine as they whizzed past the counter but didn’t make any move to stop them. Couldn’t blame him either. Whether it was in heaven or hell, sex shop or convenience store, retail work sucked.</p>
<p>They weren’t ready to leave just yet though. They wanted a souvenir… A blissful reminder of this night the next time that Luci trapped them under his thumb and pushed down.</p>
<p>It only took a couple minutes of aisle surfing before something else caught their eye.</p>
<p>It was the whip from the video, they noted, picking it up with reverence. They recognized it by the red bat wings protruding from the bottom of the handle.</p>
<p>They squeezed the braided purple suede, noting how good, how right, it felt in the palm of their hand. The whip itself, made of black patent leather, resembled a devil’s tail, complete with a barb at the end.</p>
<p>They had to have it.</p>
<p><em>Whip of Love, 45 Devil Points</em>, read the label on the shelf.</p>
<p>Shit, that was forty-five more Devil Points than they had. How much was that in Grimm? If one DP was two thousand Grimm… Then, yes, they did have ninety thousand Grimm! The only issue was they didn’t keep that much money on their person.</p>
<p>Hell, these shorts didn’t even have pockets. They were completely broke.</p>
<p>“Asmooo!” They whined over their shoulder. “Lend me some money!”</p>
<p>“No,” he said, quite tersely, with his arms crossed over his chest.</p>
<p>“C’mon, I’m not Mammon! I’ll pay you back as soon as we get home.”</p>
<p>“What’s in it <em>pour moi</em>?”</p>
<p>Paymon shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were. This was a devil they were dealing with. He wouldn’t very well help them out of the goodness of his heart.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” They asked, their tone flat.</p>
<p>“I’m so glad that you asked! I want a night of you all to myself. Just think of it! We can paint our nails, do each other’s make up, play dress up…” It sounded like Paymon’s personal hell.</p>
<p>If Luci made them feel like a child, then Asmo made them feel like a doll… Something to be dressed up, posed and played with, but ultimately put away. Sometimes in a lit-up display cabinet, sometimes in a dark toy chest.</p>
<p>It was a pretty apt description, admittedly. As a human in the Devildom, they were an object of whimsy and imagination that would eventually be discarded once the novelty wore off.</p>
<p>“No dresses.”</p>
<p>Asmo had a bad habit of pressuring them into more feminine styles on a regular basis. Clothes have no gender, but they spent too much time being <em>forced</em> to wear a skirt to ever willingly try one on again.</p>
<p>“Trust me, darling, I don’t plan on covering you up that much,” he leered at them. “So, do you have a deal?”</p>
<p>Paymon coiled the whip around their wrist, wondered idly how much force it would take to leave a mark but not break the skin. Then again, demons didn’t scar as easily as humans. They’d have plenty of time to practice, assuming they could find a playmate.</p>
<p>“Deal.”</p>
<p>“Good! Now go grab some leather oil to go with it. I’ll be looking over here,” Asmo said, grinning like the cat that got the cream before turning his attention to one of the nearby racks.</p>
<p>He quickly flicked past hangers showcasing leather and latex bodysuits, lingering instead on lacy lingerie in various pastel colors: baby blues and pinks, lilac purples, mint greens, cornsilk yellows. Finally, he settled on a virginal white set featuring delicate flower embroidery and held it up to their figure.</p>
<p>A demon with an innocence kink. How unoriginal.</p>
<p>They were no angel, though. That was for sure.</p>
<p>Obviously Asmo had never heard how people talked about them back home or found their phone number scrawled on the interior of a bathroom stall. <em>Call Paymon for a good time!! ;)</em> Although they’d gone by a different name at that time.</p>
<p>They’d fucked in the back of trucks, against walls in secluded corners at school, on the ground in their father’s peach orchards. Basically, everywhere <em>except</em> a bed. Some of the boys even took to calling them Peaches, claiming they had the juiciest ass in town.</p>
<p>It was rarely good by any stretch of the imagination. Their hands were usually too dry, despite Paymon’s show of fellating their longest fingers, and more often than not they had fingernails like razorblades. And, for all the beastly boys they blew, not one ever went down on them in return.</p>
<p>Of course, everyone they met before coming to the Devildom was a waste of time. It wasn’t even a fair comparison.</p>
<p>Still, it had been so, so long since Paymon had anything other than their own hand. They were playing the long game with the brothers, placed all their pieces on the board as expected, but it felt like they were losing big time.</p>
<p>“Don’t frown, sweetheart. You’ll get what you want in the end.”</p>
<p>Promises, promises.</p>
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